The Dragon and the Fox
by Lady Notorious
Summary: When Draco becomes a loner, the only person he can turn to is his unkown penpal. When they meet at a masked ball, all hell breaks loose. The genre's and rating may change.


A/N: I took the note part from Sherwood Smith's book, Court Duel, which I highly suggest to everyone, but first they must read Crown Duel. Sorry for the short chapter, but I'm writing several other stories on another site and I just wanted to get this down. It's most likely going to be a short story and I'm not going to get into a whole lot of detail. Also, if anyone wants to beta-read for me, I am open to offers, but be warned, I will check up on your background and if you haven't written any stories, I won't use you.

The summer had changed a lot, the prince of Slytherin realized. Or the used-to-be Prince of Slytherin thought. No Slytherin would talk to him now. Not after what had occurred this summer. This summer he had begged Dumbeldore for aid, which he received without hesitation. When his father had killed his mother, the only person he had ever loved, Draco Malfoy had known that he couldn't help Voldemort anymore.

He had asked Severous Snape, the only person he knew who would have contact to Dumbeldore, for help. Snape had taken him to the safe house. There, Dumbeldore listened to the platinum-blonds story and had helped him. Although nobody had been too pleased, everyone learned to accept him. The magnificent Trio and Ron Weasley's little sister Ginny even tried to help Draco adjust. Although he didn't want their help, he was thankful. He even learnt to be polite to them. One couldn't say they were friends, but one could say that they were decent to each other at the very least.

As he walked through the halls of Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy felt the change. The Slytherins didn't talk to him anymore, they thought of him a betrayer.Nobody else trusted him, not even the people who he had stayed with during the summer. In other words, theonceinfamous Slytherin was now a loner.

As he heard footsteps, the blonde looked up. Nobody except a blond Gryffindor from his year. She had come this year after the Salem Witch School in Massachusetts; U.S.A was attacked this summer by Voldemort and the headmaster had been killed. It was told that most students hadn't even tried to go to another magic school. For some reason, this girl had. Draco couldn't remember her name, but it didn't really matter to him. He had other things on his mind.

Like the letters for instance. Tonight was a masked ball, in honor of Halloween and he was to meet his mysterious pen pal. Neither of them knew who the other was, only that they both went to Hogwarts and were in sixth year. On the first Hogsmeade weekend, they had signed up for it at the post office. Draco had done it out of desperation and thought he would hate it, but had found he quite liked it.

The two had agreed that unless both agreed, they would not tell each other whom they were. Tonight, they were to stay masked unless they both wanted to be unmasked. He pulled his favorite letter from his pocket. He had told her how different he felt from everyone else. For some reason, he felt as if he could tell her everything.

_ You say you are different from everyone else, but how do you know they aren't as different as you are? I mean come on; we're all different in our own ways. And how can you say you're weird? Because weird is abnormal, and to be normal would mean to be perfect, which nobody is. So if someone were normal, it would make him or her abnormal. So if you say you're weird (which is abnormal), you are perfectly normal. (Yes, I am fully aware how little sense this makes…) _

When Draco had read that part, he had smiled for the first time in months. And that was only the beginning of a long letter. All of her letter's were. He glanced down at the handwriting. It was always so precise, no mistakes whatsoever. And it wasn't the print of a 'Quotable Quill'. Draco was sure that this cursive writing was an actual person's, although he could barely believe it. His own handwriting was only capitals, which he knew annoyed people but he didn't really care. If they had a problem with it, why read it? He had said that to a teacher once and they had given him detention.

As he walked to Slytherin Tower so he could change for the ball, Draco Malfoy sighed. He didn't want to go there and receive the glares of the Slytherins. The only reason they hadn't attacked him was because they knew he knew how to do his magic while many of them didn't. He opened up the portrait and sighed once more before he entered the green decorated house.


End file.
